


Smoke

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama, Episode Related, Season/Series 01, Suicide, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-15
Updated: 2004-06-15
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Post-122. What if the After-Prom bashing was more serious than in the show? What would've happened to our boys?





	Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Author's Note: The lyric's used in here are from the song "Smoke" By Natalie Imbruglia

* * *

He barely registered the loving hand placed upon his shoulder, as silent tears streamed down his face. A scarf hung around his neck covered in the blood of Justin Taylor. Once a beautiful blonde boy with a sunshine smile, now laying in a coma, because of him. Because he had to show up at Justin’s prom. If he hadn’t of been there… would Chris Hobbs really have hit Justin over the head with the bat? If he hadn’t of danced with the boy, kissed the boy in front of the school, would this really have happened?

Brian bowed his head, ashamed, as he heard footsteps running down the hospital corridor, stopping before him and Michael. 

He could hear the voices speaking to him but none of them registered. All he could see was Justin lying cold and unmoving on the cold cement floor of the parking garage, blood pouring everywhere as Brian screamed out in horror. 

More unwanted tears slipped out of his eyes and onto the scarf that he was now holding in his hand, bathed in Justin’s blood. Justin was strong, he knew he could make it out of this. He had to.

“I love you.” He whispered quietly, looking at the scarf. “I love you, Justin.” 

He could feel Michael’s eyes on him, and he knew his best friend could hear what he had just declared. But, he didn’t care anymore. All he wanted was for Justin to come out of this coma… and he knew he would. He had to.

Nearly three hours passed before Brian dared to look up into the eyes of his friends, and the eyes of Justin’s mother. He looked away once he saw her accusing glare. He knew it was his fault. Must he be reminded?

“Are you here for Justin Taylor?” 

Brian’s head shot up at the nurse’s voice.

“Yes, yes. I’m his mother.” Jennifer said, stepping towards the nurse.

“He’s still in a coma but we have him stabilized for now.” The nurse said. “You all may see him if you would like. He’s in room 204.”

Brian immediately jumped up from the seat.

“I don’t want you going near my son again. Look what you did to him!” Jennifer spoke as soon as she saw Brian stand up.

“Jennifer, honey-“ Debbie started.

“No, it was his fault.”

“It was no one’s fault.” Debbie spoke. “Honey, he’s not the bastard that came out with the baseball bat. Hell, Justin even invited him to the prom. Let him see Justin.” 

For the first time that night Brian spoke, his voice cracking as he did so, “It’s okay… i-it’s her choice.”

“No you’re going to see him and that’s that.” Debbie said before anyone could get another word in.

The group walked towards the room Justin was assigned too, Brian trailing behind. He was afraid what he was going to see. 

Justin looked like an angel. A sleeping angel. That is if angel’s had tubes sticking out of them, and monitors beeping.

Brian leaned against the door frame, suddenly feeling like he needed support. This is what he got for finally showing Justin how he felt? 

“Can I…” He looked over at the group of his friends, and Justin’s family. “Can I please… have a moment alone with him?” 

“I don’t-“

“Honey,” Debbie stopped Jennifer before she could protest any farther. “He,” She lowered her voice so only Jennifer could hear. “He must have been traumatized by tonight. I know you want to take your anger out on him. But give him a moment with Justin. Just a moment, hon.” 

Jennifer nodded her consent and the group walked out of the room leaving Brian alone with Justin. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand coming out to smooth Justin’s blonde locks off of his forehead.

“I love you, you know.” He whispered. “That’s why I showed up at your prom tonight. I know I’ve been an ass to you a lot. I just… didn’t want you to see how I felt. But, Justin… please you have to wake up, you—“

A loud beeping from the monitor next to Justin’s bed startled Brian and he looked at the screen seeing it had formed a straight line.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, no!” He yelled, opening the door and screaming for help.

Doctor’s rushed in in no time, followed by Brian’s friends. 

“My baby!” He heard Jennifer cry out as she tried to make her way towards the bed.

“Oh god,” Brian leaned against the wall. This couldn’t be happening. Justin was going to live. Justin had to live. 

He didn’t even know he had been crying until Michael pulled him into a tight embrace, rubbing his back soothingly and whispering words of endearment. 

The beeping seemed to grow louder as Brian stared at the doctors who furiously worked to get Justin’s heart to move again. The minutes that passed by seemed to grow into hours. His vision started to swim.

Was he really going to lose the only person he had ever, even if it was unintentionally, let himself love?

“I’m sorry.”

Brian’s head snapped up at the doctor’s voice. “I’m sorry… he’s gone. There’s nothing else we can do.”

Brian held onto Michael for dear life as he heard the words he had been dreading. In the background he could barely make out the sobbing voice of Jennifer and his other quietly sobbing friends.

Justin was gone. And in the instant Justin was gone, Brian knew a piece of him had disappeared with the beautiful boy.

__________________________________________________

 

“Brian are you sure you want me to leave you alone tonight?” Michael asked worriedly. “I could always stay.”

“I’m fine.” Brian practically growled, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and falling onto the couch taking a long swig. “Leave, Mikey.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

Brian nodded, “And Mikey, I love you, you know.”

Michael looked at him strangely before leaving the loft. 

Once Michael was gone, Brian finally let himself sob. The tears were harsh, and wouldn’t seem to stop as Brian cried for the one man he had loved.

“Why?” He looked up at the ceiling. “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

He wondered if anyone heard him. He even wondered if this was his dead father’s cruel punishment to him for finding out he’s gay.

Brian stood up in a rage, throwing the bottle across the room.

There was only one thing left to do.

He sat down at his desk, grabbing a piece of paper, lyrics from an unknown song; a song he had heard awhile ago, coming to his head. He quickly jotted them down.

 

_“My mouth is dry_  
Forgot how to cry  
What's up with that  
You're hurting me 

_I'm running fast_  
Can't hide the past  
What's up with that  
You're pushing me 

_Why? Believing is breathing_  
You're hiding underneath the smoke in the room  
Try? Believing is believing  
I used to  
I used to” 

Still dressed in the clothes he had worn to the prom, Brian stood up, placing the note ontop of his computer. 

Slowly, he walked over to his table, picking up a chair and setting it on a spacious spot in the middle of the floor. He fingered the bloody scarf around his neck. He hoped everyone would forgive him for this. Especially Justin. But how could he go on, knowing that the reason the only man he had ever loved died because of him?

He stood on the chair, throwing the scarf up so it hung from the rafters. He took one last breath as he tied the scarf around his neck kicking the chair out of the way. 

He gasped for breath, his instincts kicking in as he grabbed the scarf around his neck, but he wouldn’t let himself live. He couldn’t. So, dropping his hands to his sides, he waited for the darkness to overcome him once and for all.


End file.
